


Not Exactly a Fairy Tale

by MonsterSmut



Category: Bright (2017)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/M, Fantastic Racism, Kandomere's talented tongue, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Sex Pollen, Urban Fantasy, Worldbuilding, mostly smut lets be honest here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-03-15 10:19:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13611327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonsterSmut/pseuds/MonsterSmut
Summary: "That's a nice slow-burn mutual pining relationship you have there, it'd be a shame if something were to accelerate it..." -Sex Pollen, probably.You work in the MTF archives, doing translation work and filing, occasionally doing projects under-the-table for the elf agent you have a mad crush on. It starts to seem like maybe he's interested too, though there are class and race issues a plenty when a rich elf is interested in a poor human. Throw in a smuggling ring moving a particularly troublesome bit of magic and cameos by a cinnamon roll and his partner.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr, this is an ongoing series. I anticipate around 8 chapters total, with a possible epilogue. Find me at howtobangyourmonster.tumblr.com for more smutty Kandomere(and occasional Jakoby) as well as other non-fandom works.  
> Thanks!

“Have a nice night, Grace!” you smile at the other woman as she gathers her purse and coat and heads to the exit. “See you tomorrow!”

“Bye!” she waves at you. “Enjoy the graveyard!”

You laugh to yourself as she leaves. Night shift at the MTF restricted archives was pretty much your idea of heaven. Very few agents frequented the stacks this late, which meant less being talked down to by your (mostly elven) superiors and more time to spend on your own pet projects. Ostensibly, you should have been working on clearing your inbox of translation requests, but the latest MTF raid had netted a few really choice tomes that you desperately wanted to crack.

“Let's see...” you muttered to yourself, a bad habit you'd picked up working mostly alone for more years than was probably healthy. “More High Övüsi, snore...Middle English, _snore_ ... Cyrillic Bodzvokhan? We have a winner.”

You manage to lose yourself in the work until you hear a familiar voice. Glancing up, you confirm it's Agent Kandomere, in yet another bespoke suit that probably cost more than your college tuition. Damn, that man could dress. He tended to frequent the archives at the end of his day, occasionally making a translation request of you. You love watching him, his confident swagger, the grace and control of his movements, like some kind of lion...

You have a massive crush on the blue-haired elven agent. And maybe he has starred in more than a few x-rated dreams lately. What can you say, finely tailored suits and an aloof demeanor are something of a kink of yours. It helped that he was one of the few higher-ups who was always respectful, if a little distant, when making requests of the archivists. You begin to daydream, wondering exactly what it would take to defrost your elven ice king, when your reverie is interrupted by an annoyed clearing of the throat. You focus back to the present and are understandably chagrined that the object of your sexual fantasies is the one attempting to get your attention.

“Working hard, I see.” Agent Kandomere arched one perfect eyebrow.

“Nice to see you again, agent.” you smile. “Hey, since you're here, I can print off your translations. I'll still email you the files, but if you want a paper copy...?”

“Yes, thank you, that would be helpful.” he nods, a twitch of his mouth that might be a smile, you can't quite tell. “I actually have another matter I'd like your help with, off record.”

“Mmmm, I'm listening.” you lean forward, conspiratorially.

“I'm tracking a smuggling operation. If you get anything across your desk with these specific phrases, call me. I need you to go through the last month's worth of material to check for them, too.” he says, sliding a slip of paper across the desk to you.

“You got it. I'll start now.”

He nods again, turning to leave. You take the opportunity to check out his ass as he walks away.

_Damn..._

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of your shift has considerably less eye candy, but you do manage to find a few pieces of information for the agent. As the sun comes up, you log out of the archive's system and collect your things. You're bone-tired and will probably end up falling asleep on the Gold Line.

You nearly collide with whomever is coming around the corner as you exit the elevator on the ground floor, dropping your bag and jacket. “Sorry...”

You glance up and immediately want to die, Agent Kandomere and the orc officer from the LAPD are both towering over you as you bend down to gather your things. Officer Jakoby crouches down to help you. You recognize him from the news and the buzz around the MTF regarding the 'incident'.

“Thanks, officer.” you say, in Bodzvokhan, because why not? You hardly ever get the opportunity to practice speaking Orcish.

He smiles happily when he hears it. “You speak Bodzvokhan? Your pronunciation is excellent!”

“Thank you again. I'm glad, I rarely get to speak it at the archives.”

“Officer Jakoby?” Kandomere looks like his patience is beginning to thin. “Our meeting?”

“Oh, yeah, right, sorry.” Jakoby turns back to you. “Nice meeting you!”

You give him a friendly wave as the two men continue to the elevator. Trying to shrug off your embarrassment at your graceless display, you turn and start heading out the door when two tall elven agents flank you and block your exit.

“You hear her, Tam? Talking orc to that pigskin cop?” one of them says.

“Sure did, disgusting. You some kind of orc groupie whore? You want to fuck the filthy pignose now that he's famous?”

Fuck, this is the last thing you need. The jibes you get from elves in the archives are bad enough(if you had a dollar for every time you'd had Övüsi slurs flung at you...), but sometimes the agents liked to take out their frustrations on the MTF's lower-ranking human staff.

“I'm just trying to go home, agents, it's been a long night.” you reply, head ducked.

“Long night? Fucking your way to the top, then? You suck some special agent's dick to get in here?” one of the agents spat, getting in your face. “Why we even let you filthy pigfucking humans in here, I just can't understand.”

You try to step around them, try to catch the security guard's eye, but he's an elf too, and pretends not to notice. “I'm not looking to start something, I just want to go home.”

“You better watch it, bitch.” the angry one, Tam, narrows his silver eyes at you. “I'll make your life hell.”

“Will you, now?” an authoritative voice interrupts the exchange. Agent Kandomere is swiftly walking toward the three of you, visibly angry. “Because I think I could probably make _your_ lives hell much quicker.”

“Agent Kandomere-” one of your harassers begins.

“Special Agent in Charge, now, if you remember.” he states. This seems to cow the other elven agents. “Do I need to remind you about our policies on harassment?”

“No, Special Agent.”

“Good. Now fuck off.” Kandomere turns back to you. “You alright?”

“Yeah, peachy, I'm used to it. Convenient timing on your part though, you following me?” you ask, still shaken. Clashes between elves and humans in the workplace pretty much never worked out in the human's favor, and you really really didn't want to lose your job.

“You dropped your keys back there.” Kandomere says, his hand on your elbow as he guides you out of the flow of foot traffic. “This kind of thing happen often?”

“Well, yeah, of course it does. Racism doesn't stop at the door.”

“Come up to my office, I'll take your statement and-”

“I really just want to go home. No one is going to care that elf feds are harassing human employees.” you say, feeling defeated. “We both know you're not going to write them up.”

“Of course I will, their behavior is unacceptable-” he begins.

“Right, because lowly humans like me matter, too? Would you have even stopped them if you didn't know me, if I were just a random human?” you interject, jabbing your finger against the crest he always displays over his necktie. “'Elves Above All', right? But yeah, you're totally impartial.”

That trips him up for a moment, but only a moment. He catches your arm as you try to stalk off. You whirl on him.

“Look, I want to help, I really do. I've seen you do some really good work for this city, but I don't have the time or energy or desire to deal with any more bigots than I have to. When I find something, I'll pass it on to your partner.” you pull your arm out of his grip. “I think that will suit us all better.”

You take your keys from his outstretched palm and finally leave the building without a backwards glance.

 

* * *

 

 

It's been a week since your...altercation, and Agent Kandomere hasn't been by the archives during your shift. You feel conflicted. You want to see him, but the whole thing reminded you of the gulf that exists between you. You feel like a silly teenager with a ridiculous unrequited crush and silently chastise yourself for indulging in your fantasies as much as you have been. Glancing at the clock, you decide you need some air. The building is mostly dark and silent as you make your way to the observation floor, not seeing another soul on your way up. Stepping out onto the terrace, you take in the view of L.A glittering below you.

“Taking your break?” Agent Kandomere is standing in front of the balustrade, hands in his pockets, regarding the lights and bustle of of L.A.'s nightlife.

“Agent.” you acknowledge.

“Mind if I join you?”

You give a noncommittal shrug, not willing to let on that you'd actually be happy for his company. The bitterness of your last interaction hangs over you. “Sure. What are you doing here so late?”

“What makes you think I'm not always here this late?” he responds. The way his expression never lets on anything really aggravates you, because half the things he says could either be flirtatious or insulting, depending on interpretation.

“I'm always here this late, and I never see you past ten. It was an educated guess.” you answer, forgoing your usual bench in favor of sitting on the table itself. “Not wearing the crest of Elven superiority anymore? Or is it just out for a polishing?”

He glanced down at his necktie briefly, you can't tell if it's a nervous gesture or not. “As you say, I'm a law enforcement official, and it...alienates people. Even if most of them can't translate it.”

You're surprised, a bit, that he took anything you had said about it seriously.

“Why'd you decide to study ancient elven _,_ anyway?” he asks, gaze still trained on the city below.

“I work in a government archive.” you deadpan. “You gotta know the old languages if you want to advance. That's one of the reasons I don't mind graveyard, more time to study.”

“You taught yourself?” he replies, turning toward you. His disbelief is insulting.

“You don't think I could?” you challenge.

“It's not an easy language...”

“Please, its a phonetic language, not even in the top three hardest I've ever learned.” you say. “Why are you picking a fight with me?”

He looks irritated. “I'm not. It's just unusual-”

“Suspicious, you mean.”

Kandomere gives you a warning look, and you know your interruptions are throwing him off his game. Good.

“Unusual, for a human, outside of a PhD.” He pauses. “Or...are you a fetishist?”

“Excuse you,” you scoff. “Wanting to learn the language doesn't mean I want to be or bang an elf, okay?”

“Your orc sounds a lot more natural than your Övüsi, you part orc?”

“Maybe I'm an orc fetishist.”

“No one's an orc fetishist.” he responds.

“Mmm, you'd be surprised.” you sing-song, waggling your eyebrows. You can't help but laugh at the disgusted look on his face. “Not me, but I am part Russian. The orcs weren't nearly so paranoid about linguistic drift, there's a lot of borrowing.”

To your surprise, he joins you on the table, sitting close enough to be not-strictly-professional, if not exactly friendly. “You can't pronounce elven for shit, you know.”

“Oh, I know. It's hard to practice when you don't actually know any elves.”

He cocked his head to one side. “You know me.”

“Are you offering to teach me?”

“Maybe. If I wouldn't be wasting my time.”

You pause, scrutinizing his demeanor and tone for sarcasm, but find none. “I wouldn't have thought you had enough free time for private tutoring, Special Agent in Charge.”

“I can make time, for friends.” he states.

You're not quite sure how to respond to his offer, or his admission that he thought of you as friends, and the two of you lapse into an awkward silence. You clear your throat, trying to break the tension with a joke.

“So...'Kandomere' is quite a name, do your friends call you 'Kandy'?”

Kandomere laughs softly, half a smile gracing his usually stoic face. “Not if they wish to remain my friends.”

“So you _can_ smile!” you chide, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Looks good on you.”

“Everything looks good on me.” he immediately responds.

You roll your eyes and hop down, walking away. You don't see the way his eyes follow after you.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our intrepid heroine is exposed to an unknown magical agent and there are...complications.

Whatever smuggling operation Kandomere is tracking seems to be getting pretty active; by the end of the month, you've amassed a sizable file of intel for the agent. Of course, you don't have many details, you didn't rank high enough for that and if there's one thing Kandomere is, it's professional. Your conversation on the terrace _was_ unexpectedly congenial, though, and since then he's been a bit warmer toward you, more friendly. At least he graces you with the occasional smile now.

Finishing up a re junior agents, you send it off and stand up to stretch. Your arms are high over your head, your back arched, when Kandomere approaches the circulation desk. You try not to sputter as you catch him blatantly checking you out.

“Oh, uh, hi...I was just heading to the break room for some coffee...” you feign nonchalance.  
He frowns a bit at that. “Don't poison yourself with that swill, I know a decent cafe, if you'd care to join me.”

Coffee? With _him_? You try not to let your excitement show as you grab your coat and follow him out. The cafe is nearby, and no wonder you've never noticed it. It seems to be one of those avante-garde elf establishments that keeps odd hours. You pull up short at the door.

“Wait, can I even go in here?” you ask. “This seems like an elf-only kind of place.”

“It's okay, I know the proprietor. I bring Montehugh here sometimes, no one will bother us.” he replies, opening the door for you and guiding you inside, his broad hand on the small of your back.

He nods at a few of the patrons in passing, all of them elves. A couple give you an odd look, but no one is overtly hostile, which is better than you expected, honestly. He steers you into a booth toward the back and slides in next to you, your knees touching under the table.

“The menu is in elven, but that shouldn't be a problem for you.” he says with a half-smile.

You can feel yourself blushing as you peruse the menu. A server approaches, recognizing Kandomere and exchanging a few pleasantries with him before taking your order. You get a flat white Americano and are startled with the server snickers as he writes it down. Kandomere repeats your order, and you understand your pronunciation was wildly off.

“I can say it!” you snap at him in Övüsi, embarrassed.

He and the server both laugh, and your embarrassment deepens. Was your spoken elven truly that bad? Kandomere finishes ordering for the two of you, and leans back in the booth, putting one arm over the back of your seat. You're certain he must be able to hear your heartbeat increasing.

“You really need to let me teach you how to speak Övüsi properly, before you mortally offend someone.” he says, the teasing tone in his voice warming your cheeks.

“Ugh, this is humiliating. I'm a linguist, damn it!” you cover your face with your hands.

He laughs. “Try again; _k_ _enie mikaithorï_.”

“ _K_ _enie mikaithorï.”_ you parrot, the vowels rolling around on your tongue.

“Better.” he says, nodding in approval.

You want to kiss him very very badly. You refrain.

The server brings your orders to the table, smirking at you as he leaves. Asshole.

“I can't really picture your partner in a place like this, honestly.” you say, taking a sip of your coffee.

“He does stick out quite a bit.” Kandomere acknowledges. “But you'd be surprised. I like to think I've had a civilizing influence on him during our partnership.”

“Mmm, is that a dig at humans and our loud reputation?”

“No,” he replies, exasperated, “not everything I say is to belittle your race. I actually like humans, on an individual basis.”

“I bet.” you answer.

“I suppose you don't have any prejudiced ideas about elves?” he arches an eyebrow at you.

“Hey now, _I'm_ the marginalized party in this conversation. You're the privileged ruling class.” you point out. He sighs.

“I know, you're right.” Kandomere runs his thumb along the rim of his cup, lost in thought.

“I appreciate that you're trying, though. It's important, that elves in powerful positions recognize the personhood of the other races.”  
“You feel like elves don't think of you as people?” he asks, seemingly genuinely surprised.

“Of course I don't. I mean, humans aren't treated nearly as badly as the other races, and I still get harassed and threatened and ignored and exploited by elves on the regular. Has your partner never said anything? He has to see it.”

“Montehugh has always spoken well of how I treat humans, how he's treated in general on the force.”

“Yeah, well, he's in a good position and people aren't going to mess with him because he's your partner. Sorry to burst your bubble, inequality hides itself from the privileged. It's probably really easy not to think about when you don't directly experience it.”

He seemed to mull that over, a displeased frown creasing his handsome face. “I don't like how you're treated at the MTF.”

“It's not just how I'm treated. And you can think I'm one of the _good_ humans and I can think you're one of the _good_ elves, but we're not going to solve racism and systemic inequality by ourselves. But it is good for you to step in when you see it happening, and to shut it down when you observe it in elf-only spaces.”

He stares at you intensely for a moment, before clearing his throat. “I did write up those agents who accosted you. They're in mandatory sensitivity training, and I put them on desk duty until I'm convinced it won't happen again.”

“Thank you for that.” you give him a warm smile, which he returns after a moment.

“I want you to feel safe, with m-” he's cut off by the server arriving with the check.

Whatever he was going to say was left unsaid as he walked you back to the archives. It almost felt like the end of a date, your stomach performing somersaults even as you told yourself you were being ridiculous. He pauses by your desk as you awkwardly twist your hands together.

“Thank you for the coffee, you're right, much better than the break room.”

“Thank you for joining me. Maybe tomorrow we can work on your Övüsi more.” he suggests, brows raising hopefully.

“Yeah, that would be great! You know where to find me.”

“Indeed I do.” he replies, giving you a slight nod before departing.

 

* * *

 

You're a little surprised to see a couple LAPD officers stroll through the archive the next night, though Ward and Jakoby have been coming around semi-regularly for meetings with Kandomere and Montehugh. You figure it has to do with tracking down that Bright they found, and secretly you hope that interacting with an orc this much will have a good influence on Kandomere's worldview. You like Jakoby, he's really sweet and you think he deserves a lot more credit.

“Nice to see you, officers. What brings you by at this hour?” you smile up at the friendly orc.

“We have a meeting with Special Agent Kandomere and Agent Montehugh,” he stage-whispers, “top-secret.”

“Man, don't _tell_ her it's top-secret, that's what top-secret means!” Ward exclaims.

“Oh, right, uh, sorry...” Jakoby looks embarrassed.

“Your secret is safe with me, officers. I _do_ have top-secret security clearance, though.” you reply with a wink. “All the archivists do.”

You smile at Jakoby as you pick up the day's mail from the mail deposit box. There's the usual archive business, but one piece of mail stops you. The envelope is scrawled in hastily-written Övüsi, almost illegible, save for one phrase. One of the phrases Kandomere asked you to look out for. You turn it over in your hand, how did it end up here, there's no postmark. Someone must have hand delivered it. In what you would later realize was a monumentally stupid move, you open the envelope.

There's a sudden burst of gold light, and a cloud of shimmering yellow dust coats your face. You sneeze repeatedly, your hands flying up to your eyes which suddenly feel as though they're on fire.

“Fuck, shit shit shit...” you bump into the corner of your desk as you blindly stumble forward.

“Are you okay?” you hear Jakoby's concerned voice coming from your left.

“There was something in that envelope, I need help...” you manage.

“Shit,” you hear Ward mutter, followed by the click-buzz of his radio. “We need medical in the archives, exposure to unidentified powder.”

“Hey, you're gonna be okay.” Jakoby says, his hands on your shoulders guiding you to a seat. “Help's on the way.”

You focus on your breathing. The stinging in your eyes is subsiding, but you start to feel warm, really warm. Like you've had too much to drink. You star fanning yourself with your hands.

“What's going on?” an arriving EMT quickly comes to your side and starts examining you.

“There was an envelope in the mail deposit box, no postmark, it's on my desk. There was something inside, magical. I feel like I'm on fire.” you groan.

The EMT takes your vitals. “Her heart rate is way too fast, and her temperature is getting dangerously high.”

The heat in your veins begins to pool in your chest and pelvis, concentrating between your legs. You were beginning to feel turned on, like, really turned on. _What the literal fuck..._

“This is way over our pay grade, we're gonna have to call this one in.” you hear Ward say to his partner.

He turns to the side and brings up his phone, thumb hesitating a moment before he calls. Raising the phone to his ear, he doesn't wait for the agent to say anything before filling him in on the situation at hand. “We got something for you down here.”

 

* * *

 

 

Agent Kandomere walks briskly into the archives, Montehugh close behind, quickly locating the officers near the circulation desk. “Where is she?”

“The EMT has her laying down in the break room.” Jakoby replies.

The three men enter the break room to see the EMT administering a syringe of clear fluid to the writhing, groaning human woman. Within a few seconds, she's unconscious and silent.

“Someone better fill me in fucking quick.” the elven agent states, running a hand through his hair.

The EMT and Jakoby catch him up on the situation. Kandomere is perfectly still and quiet as he stares at the human lying on the ratty break room couch.

“Okay, we have to move her to the lab. There's one doctor on duty at this time of night, and I want to keep this quiet until we have everything secure.” he turns to the officers. “Do you have evidence bags on you?”

“Of course.” Jakoby replies.

“Get the envelope and any trace of that powder you find, _do not breathe it in_ , and bring it to the lab. Dr. Ikeda will buzz you in.”

The EMT and the agents load the unconscious woman onto a stretcher and move her to up to the lab, Kandomere coordinating with Dr. Ikeda over the phone. The doctor is waiting for them at the lab door as the approach.

“Bring her in, bring her in.” Dr. Ikeda puts a hand on the EMT's shoulder. “Move her to the exam room, Mendoza.”

The EMT nods and wheels the woman into the exam room, leaving Dr. Ikeda with the agents. A buzzer signals the arrival of the LAPD officers, and the doctor lets them in.

“You have the powder?” he asks.

“Right here.” Jakoby pulls down his face mask and holds up the evidence bags.

Dr. Ikeda bustles around the lab, preparing microscope slides, while the other men stand quietly, a nervous tension filling the air.

“Agent, can you come look at this?” Dr. Ikeda motions to Kandomere.

The blue-haired elf bends over the microscope, observing for a long moment, before swearing under his breath.

“Fuck, fuck, just...” Kandomere straightens up. “This is exactly what we were worried about, Montehugh.”

The ruddy human agent swears loudly.

“What, what is it?” Jakoby asks while Ward looks increasingly concerned.

“No one can know this shit is in the city. Until we get this situation under control, no one says anything to anyone outside this lab. Are we all clear?” Kandomere levels an intense stare at each of the other men in the room. “We can not afford a panic, not if we're going to track down the scum dealing this stuff.”

He looks down at the table and exhales shakily. “Mendoza, right?”

The EMT nods.

“You're going to assist Dr. Ikeda with whatever he needs.

“What the hell is going here?” Ward demands. “Is this some kinda magical anthrax?”

Kandomere gives him an irritated stare. “We've been monitoring a magic smuggling ring for the last four months. I wasn't positive on what they were moving, but I had my suspicions. This confirms it. It's a rare kind of pollen from a fae plant, one that can't exist except through magic. Elves cultivated it for millennia in antiquity.”

“Pollen? Like magic hay fever?”

“It's manipulating her autonomic nervous system. Her metabolism, heart rate, body temperature are all being pushed through the roof.” Dr. Ikeda interjects.

“So, what, she need some Tylenol and breathing exercises?”

“She can't consciously control it, that's what autonomic means.”

“It shares a root with the word 'automatic'-” Jakoby murmured over Ward's shoulder.

“Yes, thank you for the language lesson, Nick.” Ward interrupted.

“If we can't expunge her system of the substance, she will succumb to heart failure, unless her brain boils itself first.” the doctor explains. “I've only studied this in a lab, I've never encountered it in the field.”

“So she's going to _die_?” Jakoby interjected. “You're not just going to let her die, right? There's gotta be something you can do.”

“There is.” Montehugh says, staring at his partner.

“Don't.” Kandomere tells him, voice low.

“Boss, you and I both know how this plays out otherwise.” the human agent turns to the other men. “Thousands of years ago, elves used to enslave other races by luring them into bondage with shit like this, magic shit that makes you want to stay, want to serve. Sometimes it went beyond just mind control.”

“That's horrifying.” Jakoby states.

“Gets worse. This particular nasty shit kills you unless you submit to an elf.”

“Submit...” Ward says.

Dr. Ikeda clears his throat. “Sexually. The pollen uses magic to bind the subject's autonomic system to elf pheromones, keeping them in an increasing state of sexual arousal and discomfort, leading to death, unless neutralized.”

“You gotta be fuckin' with me. Girl gets hit with some kind of sex whammy that's gonna kill her unless she get fucked by an elf? That is some messed up shit, and I've seen some shit, okay?” Ward runs his hands over his head.

“There's a reason this shit is illegal. Felony illegal. Automatic prison time illegal.” Montehugh said. “The roofie to end all roofies.”

Ward fixes his stare on the elven agent. “Ain't you elves supposed be disgusted by humans? Maintaining elven purity and shit? Why does this shit even exist?”

“We don't intermarry as a rule, that's true. But among every race there are...sexual deviants.” Kandomere intoned, feeling increasingly uncomfortable about the conversation and it's implications.

“So these bastards are elf-freaks, huh? Into the _real_ kinky shit? Human fucking?”

“Agent,” Dr. Ikeda begins. “I've made her as comfortable as I can, but the sedative is going to wear off soon, and...action is required.”

The implications of the doctor's words aren't lost on Kandomere, or any of the others present. Kandomere's thoughts race, trying desperately to think a way out of the situation, come up with _any other_ solution.

“We have to bring someone in.” Kandomere breaks the silence.

“You said we can't talk to anyone until she's stable.” Jakoby says.

“She's not going to last much longer, agent...” the doctor warns. “You are the obvious solution.”

“No.”

“Maybe it'll be okay. She knows you, she trusts you.” the orc officer insists.

“That's why I won't do it. It would be a violation of her trust.” Kandomere states.

“So we just send a...a...a stranger in there instead?” Ward asked, angrily. “Send in a stranger to rape her, and tell her it's to save her life? That sound like a _better_ idea to you?”

The elven agent wants to punch him. He tries to imagine what she'd say when she came back to her senses, knowing that they'd sent an elf she didn't know in to...no. No, that would be worse. After everything he's come to learn about her, he knows she'd never forgive that.

He heaves a resigned sigh, feeling the weight of all his years pressing down on him.

“Everyone out of the lab, guard the hallway. I don't want anyone within fifty feet of this lab.” he says, quietly. “Montehugh, with me.”

The two agents approach the exam room, and Kandomere feels nauseated. Not because she's human, oddly enough. He's managed to reconcile himself with his attraction to the archivist. But it feels wrong, horribly wrong, like he's taking advantage of the situation, even though logically he knows it is life-or-death for her. He only hopes that... _being_ with him instead of a stranger will be preferable to her, and not destroy whatever tenuous friendship they have managed to forge.

“Guard the door, don't let anyone through.”

Montehugh nods as Kandomere opens the door, positioning himself in front like a club bouncer.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMUT. Just, like, all the smut. Buckle up.

You wake up in some kind of exam room, lying on a hospital cot and wearing only a thin paper gown. Your heart races like you've been running a marathon, your hair plastered to your head with sweat. The most discomfiting sensation, however, is the throbbing need between your legs. You are absolutely sodden, you can even smell your own desire, thick and heady in the small room. Whatever the EMT injected you with bought you some time, but it's obvious that time is running out.

The door opens, and you look up to see Kandomere enter and close the door behind him. He leans against the wall, hands in his pockets, hair falling over his face as he looks at his feet. It's uncharacteristically reserved of him to hide like that.

“You've got bad news for me, don't you?” It's more of a statement than a question; everything about his demeanor screams 'fatal diagnosis'.

“It's an old lust charm, from back when elves used such things to lure humans and make thralls of them.” he says, quietly, raising his head to meet your eyes. “It invades your body, takes over, sends you into overdrive until you burn out.”

“So I'm going to die...”

Your skin is becoming so hot that you feel you might burn alive, a painful whine rising from you as you stare at each other. What a sight you must make; a sweaty, writhing mass in a thin hospital gown, crying in pain even as you drip arousal onto the cot beneath you. You press your thighs together, seeking some relief, to no avail.

Kandomere's forehead creases, brows pinched together, as he looks at you with a surprising amount of concern. “You're not going to die. There's a cure. Or a treatment, rather.”

He shrugs off his fine Italian suit jacket and drops it without a thought, taking a step toward you as he unbuttons his shirtcuffs. You are almost preternaturally aware of the movement of his muscles beneath his skin, you can pick up his scent in the air.

“Dead humans don't make good thralls. But humans enamored with their lords do.”

Understanding finally pushes through your clouded thoughts.

“But you don't want...you don't like humans.” you protest, feebly.

He tugs the knot of his necktie loose, eyes never leaving yours. “I like you.”

The necktie falls to the floor and is swiftly followed by the crisp white shirt as he steps toward you. Your heart feels as though it's about to beat out of your chest and rivulets of sweat run down your back. The magic has your blood singing, and its all you can do to keep from jumping him as he clicks open his belt buckle.

He leans over you, one hand braced against the wall behind you while the other hand works to divest him of his suit trousers. Your hand instinctively comes up to run over the muscles of his chest, and he makes no move to stop you. The scent of him fills your nostrils, fine leather and smoke and vanilla and something else that is just _him_.

“Kan-” your words are cut off as his mouth crashes against yours.

Any resistance you might have had evaporates, and you tangle your fingers in his long hair as you clutch the back of his head, a needy moan escaping your lips against his as you pull him closer. He matches you as you open your mouth, slipping his tongue inside and vying you for dominance over the kiss.

You're too far gone to be of assistance as he removes your clothes, the hospital gown joining the suit on the floor. By the time it registers in your lust-addled mind that you're both naked, he already has you lying down on the cot, his muscled form poised over you, knees between your thighs, thick erection heavy against your skin.

Opening your eyes, you find yourself staring into his own moon-bright silver diamond gaze. His expression is serious, but his pupils are blown wide with arousal as he touches his forehead to yours, steel-blue hair falling around you like a curtain. The rest of the world may as well not exist.

“It's okay,” he says, making idle circles on your hip with his thumb, “I'm going to take care of you.”

With that, he lines himself up and hilts himself with one thrust. You make an obscene sound and cling to him, face pressed against his cheek. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, both hands gripping your hips and tilting you as he sets a steady pace. The angle has him hitting that sweet spot just right, and it isn't long before you come undone beneath him.

He stills and pulls back to look at you, his eyes appraising and questioning. Seemingly satisfied with your condition, he gently brushes your hair out of your face. “How are you feeling?”

You take a deep breath, and exhale slowly. “Better, clearer. Like I can think.”

“That's good. We're working it out of your system, but it's going to take a while.” he says. His voice is soft and gentle, like he's afraid of spooking you. Belatedly, you realize he's still inside you, and still hard.

You're suddenly hit with an onslaught of conflicting emotions. Embarrassment, arousal, attraction, fear, confusion...

Kandomere must see these flitting across your expression. “Hey, talk to me.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” you whisper. It's all you can think to ask.

A brief look of hurt flashes through his eyes before he swallows his initial reply. Instead, he says “You _do_ matter. To me.”

Before you can figure out how to respond to _that, a_ bolt of pain courses along your nerves. You cry out, squeezing Kandomere's biceps with your hands.

“We need to keep going, it'll just keep building back up otherwise.” He has the grace to look abashed. “Is it okay...”

“Yes, yes, of course it is. I trust you.” If it weren't a life-threatening situation, you'd have laughed. The impossibly sexy elf that haunts your dreams wants to know if it's okay that he repeatedly fuck you into the mattress? Not that he knew that he haunts your dreams...

Said dreams were becoming reality now, though. Kandomere lifts one of your legs higher and you wrap it around his waist. He lifts your other leg and places it over his shoulder, leaning down so you are practically flush against each other. He begins rocking gently against you, his breathing labored.

“Nnnng, yes...” you hiss between your teeth, matching him thrust for thrust. Though your first climax had cooled your blood considerably, you could still feel your next one building alarmingly fast. Your mouth forms an 'o' of pleasure as he deepens his thrusts, your muscles quivering around him.

“Fuck, I'm close!” you whine, desperation leeching into your voice.

“I'll get you there.” he assures you, squeezing your thigh with his hand.

True to his word, you crest over the peak of your orgasm and come crashing down on the other side. Tears of relief threaten to slip down your face, and you throw your arm across your face to hide. Kandomere pulls you with him as he sits up, turning you both so that he can lean his back against the wall with you resting against the broad expanse of his chest. You can feel his heart racing beneath his skin. He takes a moment to steady his breath, pressing his lips against your forehead in an unexpectedly sweet gesture. His hand runs up and down your spine as he tries to soothe you.

“Doing alright?”

“Yeah, definitely. Each time, it's like diving into a pool after being in the desert.”

You push yourself up off his chest to look at him. His eyes are warm and tender, which takes you aback slightly and makes it hard for you to meet his gaze. “Thank you, I...I don't really know what to say. This is such a weird situation, I feel like you've been forced into this, but I'm...I'm really glad it's you and not someone else.”

His hands move up to hold your face.

“Hey,” he begins, softly, “I'm here because I care about you, okay?”

He strokes your cheeks with his thumbs as he pulls you in for a soft kiss. With your head swimming in thoughts, most of them variations on ' _what does this mean to him?'_ , you decide to just enjoy the moment and kiss him back. You run your hands down his chest, committing the feel of him to memory, the firm muscles of his abdomen, around to the defined planes of his back and up to his strong shoulders. He hums appreciatively into your mouth, his own hands likewise exploring your body. His touch trails fire over your skin as he runs his fingers over your spine again, then down to your thighs, his large hands kneading the flesh there. You sigh against him as he moves on to palm your ass, pulling you more firmly against him, seating himself more fully within you. You give his cock an experimental squeeze with your muscles and are rewarded with his sharp intake of breath, followed by a low curse in Övüsi.

This time, it's slower, without the urgency you both felt at the beginning. You take your time, lifting yourself up and sinking back down onto him, reveling in the feeling of being stretched. Kandomere lets you take control and merely keeps a hold of your hips as you ride him, leisurely. His gaze rakes over your naked form, the way your breasts bounce with each movement, the way you arch your back and expose your throat.

He leans in and captures the tender spot where your neck meets your shoulder with his sharp teeth, biting gently. Your hand flies to the back of his head and you hold him closer, gasping. He bites down harder, and heat floods your core. You begin riding him in earnest, the room silent but for the sounds of your bodies colliding. Kandomere leans back, and you raise your head. He looks fucking _wrecked_. His hair is a mess, tangled and stuck to his forehead in places with sweat, face flushed with exertion. His pupils are blown wider than you thought possible, his eyes nearly black. Your name falls from his lips repeatedly, his voice desperate.

_I want to make him cum._

With that goal in mind, you capture his mouth in a searing kiss, biting his plush lower lip as you pull away. He growls at you, face turned feral, and pulls you back in for another, his dangerous teeth scraping your lower lip. One hand tangles itself in your hair, and you let out a shuddering moan as he twists your hair around his hand and uses it to arch your neck back. You feel his sharp teeth on your neck again, the bite stinging but quickly soothed by his tongue on your skin. He peppers your neck with kisses, and you run your fingers up along his jawline and behind his ears. He gasps, sharply, throbbing inside you.

“Ears are an erogenous zone, then? I've always wondered.” you say, running your tongue along his ear up to the point and biting down softly.

“ _Fuck_.” he groans, flipping you down on the mattress on your back. You wrap both legs around his waist as he runs his hands up your arms and laces his fingers through yours, holding you down. You feel his hot breath on your ear as he whispers filthy things to you in Övüsi; _you're so wet, you're so tight, you feel so good, cum for me, I can smell how much you want me..._

All the while, his hips are pistoning against yours, fucking you relentlessly against the mattress. You press your heels against his ass, pulling him into harder, and respond in kind; _you're so strong, you're so good, fuck me harder, please, I need you..._ You sink your teeth into his shoulder, biting him as he had you, and that spurs him on faster. Turning your face, you seek out his gaze, locking eyes with him finally.

“Kandomere,” you whisper against his mouth, and his name on your lips makes him moan. “Cum with me?”

He groans lewdly as he captures your mouth, releasing your hands and wrapping his arms around you pick you up, balancing you on his thighs as he thrusts up into you, chasing his completion and yours. One hand comes up to grasp the back of your neck as he presses his forehead to yours, silver eyes fixed on yours. “Querida...”

You squeeze your eyes close as you ride out the orgasm, pulsing and quaking around him. He follows you a moment after, the strain and relief evident in his voice as heat, thick and wet, spurts up into you. It's as if this is what your body has been waiting for, his release easing the ache in your muscles. You feel like you can breathe again, and the room feels cooler.

It takes you both a few minutes to come back to yourselves. You feel him slowly soften and slip out of you. Silently, you pull apart, moving to sit on opposite side of the cot, backs leaning against the wall. Neither of you can seem to meet the other's eye. Kandomere is the first to break the awkward silence.

“We should give it a bit longer, make sure it's not building back up.”

“Yeah.” you agree, in the same emotionless voice.

Fifteen minutes later, he's retying his necktie and you're wearing some ill-fitting castoffs from the lost-and-found Jakoby had scrounged up for you, your own clothes having been seized for analysis. Dr. Ikeda wants to keep you overnight for observation, to your annoyance. All you want to do is go home and sleep in your own bed. You're trying not to think too hard about how Kandomere is avoiding looking at or touching you.

He asks you to come to his office once you're discharged from the doctor's care, and you promise him you will. Jakoby is very concerned, making sure you're alright, even bringing you some food before he leaves for the night. You make small talk in Bodzvokhan over bowls of soup, but soon enough he departs, too. You curl up under the government-issue blanket on your hospital cot in your borrowed clothes and try to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

In the morning, Dr. Ikeda comes early to take your vitals one last time. He manages to sneak you out before anyone else comes on shift. You go back to the archive and see your area has been thoroughly cleaned. Your purse is right where you left it, though, and you go to the washroom to run a travel brush through your hair and put on a little lipgloss, try to feel normal. You know you're procrastinating, and when the morning shift arrives, you reluctantly take the elevator up to Kandomere's floor.

His secretary is expecting you, and the young man buzzes you in without preamble. “He's waiting for you.”

The elf looks completely unruffled, sitting at his desk, as though nothing unremarkable had happened the previous night. He's in a fresh grey suit, stark black shirt, the deep plum of his silk brocade waistcoat setting off his complexion. When he sees you, he is immediately on his feet and approaches you, ushering you into the well-appointed office.

Kandomere closes the door behind you and gestures for you to sit in one of the plush club chairs he's furnished his office with. He sits in the other, opposite you.

“I know you're upset with me-” you begin.

“I'm furious with you.” he states, simply.

You nod, unable to look him in the eye.

“What were you thinking?” he asks, softly. “You don't open suspicious envelopes like that, you know that.”

“I do know.” you reply. “I...I wasn't paying attention. I don't have a reason or an excuse. It was a catastrophically stupid mistake.”

“Understatement.” he replies. “If one of my agents pulled something like this, I'd have their badge.”

You lean forward, elbows on knees, and cover your face. Of course he was angry, you'd endangered everyone, and he'd had to pay the price for your mistake. He was probably disgusted with you, and what he'd had to do to save you.

Kandomere crouches down in front of you, gently pulling your hands away from your face where you'd hidden yourself. “You could have died.”

There is anger in his eyes, but also concern and fear. He's afraid.

“I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say.” you feel deep shame at the tears threatening to overflow down your face.

He rests his forehead against you, the scent of leather and smoke and vanilla triggering visceral memories of grasping hands and sharp teeth and slick tongue. The things he'd said to you in the throes of passion play in your head on a loop, the husky quality of his voice when he'd called you 'darling' at the end...but everyone says shit during sex they don't mean.

“Where does this leave us?” you ask, your voice barely audible, but you know he hears you. “Do you hate me? Are we still friends?”

“You know we're not just friends.” he whispers. “And I don't hate you, mi amor.”

One large hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that have managed to escape. His lips are gentle against yours, neither of you seeking to deepen the kiss, but just enjoying the closeness. The tight band around your heart loosens, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.

“Boss, I-” Montehugh enters without a knock.

You and Kandomere fly away from each other, and you turn your face away, brushing at the wetness on your cheeks with your hand, trying to pull yourself together. Kandomere is already on the other side of the room, fixing his bemused partner with a look that could kill. “Yes?”

“Sorry to interrupt...”

“I was just leaving.” you say, standing and making your way past the man.

“I'll call you.” Kandomere says after you. You pause and nod, before continuing past the nonplussed secretary and down the hall.

 


	4. Chapter 4

It's at least two in the afternoon when you wake up, having passed out hard as soon as your head hit your pillow. You take a shower and rifle through your meager fridge for some sustenance. Collapsing on the foldout, you pull up Netflix on your laptop and munch a bowl of cereal.

You're pretty much emotionally numb at this point.

So...Kandomere caught feelings for you. That was...unexpected. And problematic. You're pretty sure kissing him in his office like that broke at least a dozen rules prohibiting workplace fraternization, to say nothing of your nocturnal activities. You groan and lean your head back against the sofa cushions. You had to fall for an elf, at work, who is waaaaaaaay above your paygrade. Maybe your friends are right. Maybe you _do_ have daddy issues...

A knock at your front door startles you out of your reverie.

“Uh, just a minute.”

You're still in your bunny print pajamas and slippers and you haven't run a brush through your hair, but oh well. Whoever was bothering you could just deal with your beadhead. You unlatch the several locks running down the door (your neighborhood isn't the safest), leaving the chain in place, and crack open the door. A pair of diamond grey eyes greet you.

“Oh, hi.” you say, surprised. “Um, hold on...”

You close the door again and unlatch the chain, opening the door fully. “Hi, again.”

“Hi.” Kandomere says with a small smile. “May I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” you step to the side and wave him in, closing the door behind him. You don't bother relocking it, having him there is kind of like having a walking security system. “When you said you would call, I didn't think you meant in the 18th-century sense.”

“I tried your phone, but you didn't answer.” he replies.

“What?” you look at your phone, 3 missed calls. “Sorry, crappy reception out here.”

He looks completely out of place in your tiny studio apartment with your mismatched secondhand furniture. He's a gentleman, though, and doesn't remark on the meagerness of your home, though you can see it pains him to sit on your ratty foldout sofa.

“Um, can I offer you...water?” you cringe.

He laughs slightly, the curtain of his blue-grey hair falling against his chiseled jaw. “No, thank you. But we should talk, yes?”

“Yeah. We should.”

“What happened last night was...” he pauses and your heart leaps into your throat. “regrettable.”

And it crashes back down into your stomach.

“Oh...” you say, your voice breaking. “Okay...”

“No, that's not-” Kandomere moves to your side and takes your hands in his. “I'm not doing this right.”

He takes a deep breath and starts again. “What I meant to say is that I regret that our being together was under duress. You deserve better than that. And it is not how I would have chosen to initiate this.”

You swallow, thickly. “I feel like we're venturing into dangerous territory here. Even without the elf-human issues, you're kind of my boss.”

“I am only very technically not your boss, so yes, we will have to be careful.” he brushes your hair behind your ear. “That is, if you want to progress?”

The expression on his face is cautiously hopeful, and makes you want to melt. You lean in to him.

“Yes, I definitely want to progress.” you say, brushing the tip of your nose against his, hoping the gesture isn't too saccharine for him. You're rewarded by a genuine full smile, his pointed teeth on display, as he pulls you close and kisses you.

“I've been wanting to kiss you since that night on the terrace.” Kandomere says, voice low and intimate.

“I've been wanting to kiss you a lot longer than that.” you reply.

“I know.”

You pull back sharply. “What? You know?”

“I could hear your heartbeat speed up when we'd talk, and then of course I could smell you when-”

“ _Oh my god_...” you moan, hiding your face in your hands. Kandomere is laughing at you, not unkindly, and pulls you against his chest.

“Don't be embarrassed, muñeca. It was very flattering.” he shoots you a smug smile.

“Wait, can you...” you're too scared to finish the question, but he picks up on your meaning anyway.

“Yes, I can smell you now, too.” his smile turns sultry, and his eyes are full of heat.

You feel your face turn lobster red. “Well, that's done it, I'm dead now and you are speaking to my ghost.”

“You humans are so squeamish about it.” he laughs. “You don't need to be.”

Kandomere leans in and runs his tongue up your neck and around the shell of your ear, before whispering, “You smell delicious.”

You squeeze his thigh with your hand, hopeful. “Do you...want to stay?”

“I very, very much do.” he answers, “But I can't. I would like to see you tonight, though. Dr. Ikeda didn't clear you for work yet, right?”

“No, he didn't, I'm free tonight.” you say, feeling excited and shy at once. “I'd like to see you, too.”

“I'll send a car for you at seven.”

He catches your chin in his hand and tips your face up for a kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth and running his teeth over your lip. Too soon, the kiss ends, and you see him to the door.

“Try not to get into trouble before then.” he warns, his eyes playful, before departing.

Locking the door behind him, you lean your forehead against the door and let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. If this is a dream, you don't want to wake up.

 

* * *

 

 

The sleek black town car pulls up outside your building at seven, exactly. A sharply-dressed human driver gets out and walks around to your side, opening the door for you. You've never been chauffeured anywhere before, and it's more than a little awkward sitting in silence with this stranger.

“Um, where are we going?” you ask.

“Elven District, miss.” the driver responds.

Right, of course. You've never actually been to Elftown, and while your stomach is in knots, you admit to yourself that you are curious. The reality is almost more than gossip and media let you believe, even the guardrails here are golden. Everyone is strutting around in designer clothes and everything is spotless and perfectly manicured. You look down at your own clothes and feel woefully under dressed. Rather than a restaurant, the car delivers you to a glittering glass high rise where a uniformed doorman smiles and ushers you inside. The elf at the front desk curls her lip in disdain at you, but must have been told to expect you.

“Penthouse, top floor.” she says as though she's pointing out you've stepped in something. She presses a button under her desk and the elevator opens for you.

You have the entire elevator ride, which feels impossibly long, to work yourself into a nervous state over the fact that you're obviously about to enter Kandomere's _home_ in freaking _Elftown_ where he _lives_. By the time you ring the doorbell, you've half convinced yourself this is all a mistake and you're going to be arrested for trespassing.

But then the door opens, and he's standing there with that quietly-awed look on his face that makes your knees weak and wonder what he's seeing because he can't possibly be awed by you and then he's kissing you and nothing else matters. His home is pretty much what you'd expect of him; expensive fabrics, grey color palette punctuated by jewel tones here and there, everything minimalist-chic but luxurious. There are some surprisingly colorful pieces of art adorning the walls though. Kandomere manages to pull away from you long enough to show you around, and the evening finds you perched on the kitchen counter while he makes dinner, a glass of Elven Red in your hands.

“I hope this is alright,” he says, “I thought staying in would be nice.”

“It's perfect. I'm relieved, actually, I wasn't sure what to wear-” you pull on your sweater self-consciously.

“You're beautiful.” he says with a tilt of his head, his perfect hair shining in a steel-blue waterfall against his cheek. The quiet sincerity in his voice and expression make any protest die on your tongue. He's more casual than you've ever seen him before, no waistcoat or jacket, just one of his expensive button-downs, sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms.

“I'm just happy to be spending time with you.” you say.

He glances at you briefly, smiling, then returns to slicing vegetables. “I'm glad.”

Dinner is delicious, so much so that you find yourself making little moaning sounds when you take a bite, earning heated looks from your host. You end up facing each other on the couch after dessert, finishing that bottle of wine as you talk.

“You're an amazing cook, I wouldn't have suspected.” you tease.

“I enjoy the act of preparing meals, it's meditative.” he replies. “I'm happy you enjoyed it so thoroughly.”

His suggestive tone is not lost on you. Your hands are barely touching, laid across the back of the couch, and he stretches his fingers out to brush the back of your hand. You've pretty much been turned on since you arrived and you have no doubt he's picked up on it. You scoot a little closer to him, until your thighs are touching. He tilts his head down, seemingly preoccupied with your knees, then suddenly looks up at you through thick lashes.

“I wanted to ask, last night,” he hesitates, “I feel the pace of our...relationship was accelerated beyond our control. I don't know how you feel about it, but I understand if you want to take things slow.”

“How do you do that?” you blurt out, overwhelmed.

Kandomere's brows pinch together; whatever answer he was expecting, it wasn't that. “Do what?”

“Be all...this!” you gesture to his entire person. “It's like you're out of some romance novel. How are you this smooth and romantic and...I'm just not used to all this, okay. I'm sorry, I'm just a little overwhelmed.”

He chuckles and takes your wine glass, setting in on the coffee table with his, and takes your hands. “I can be rude and disinterested, if it makes you more comfortable.”

“I'm just trying to wrap my head around the thought that you're...interested, is all. When we went for coffee, I was starting to get an inkling that you maybe liked me-”

“I definitely liked you.”

“Have you ever dated a human before?” you ask.

“I've been attracted to humans from time to time, but I've never entered into a romantic relationship with a human before you. Is my being elven difficult for you?”

“Yes. Isn't my being human difficult for you?”

“There are considerations, that there wouldn't be if you were an elf, but they don't affect my desire for you.” Kandomere raises your hand to his face and presses his lips against your palm.

“Is..” your voice squeaks, you clear your throat, “it this just a physical thing for you, then?”

“Not at all, I enjoy your company, and I admire your brilliance and compassion. Though I admit I do find your physical charms very compelling.” Before you can hide your blush, he pulls you into his lap so that you are sitting astride him. “You can't take a compliment, can you?”

“Not gracefully, no.”

“Then I will have to compliment you often, until it loses its novelty.”

“I am...so...into you...” you breathe. “I feel drunk with it.”

“Oh, I am just as intoxicated by you. But you never answered my question; is this moving too fast?”

“No, definitely not.”

“Good. Spend the night with me.”

Leading you to the bedroom, Kandomere moves to embrace you from behind as he walks you to the bed. The room smells like him, and it's intensely erotic the way he invades your senses. He nuzzles your hair, breathing in your scent, before pulling your sweater off over your head. Turning to face him, you raise one brow questioningly as you rest your fingers on his shirt buttons. He nods in invitation, and you take your time removing the shirt, enjoying the feeling of his skin. Even in the dim light of the bedroom, his eyes are intense and shining. His mouth is far too inviting, and you kiss him thoroughly as you unfasten his belt and unbutton his suit trousers. Slipping your hand beneath his waistband, you find him at half-mast already, and give him a few encouraging strokes.

Hands cupping your ass, Kandomere lifts you and tosses you back onto the bed, ridding himself of the rest of his clothing as you scoot back against the pillows. He climbs over you, and you fall back against the cool sheets, Kandomere's skin hot against yours as he presses you into the bed. He slips your leggings and underwear off slowly, sliding them down your legs and pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before coming back up to lay against you fully. The slide of his skin against yours as he grinds against you is maddening. Unable to resist, you run your hands through the perfect silk of his hair. Fuck, you'd daydreamed about doing exactly that countless times at your desk. He growls appreciatively, baring his sharp teeth in an erotic display. You hope he'll bite you again.

“I intend to take my time with you tonight, querida.” he says, between kisses down your torso. “You smell so delicious, and I didn't get to taste you last time.”

“Fuck.” you push yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he settles between your thighs and presses his nose against your curls. He fixes you with a smug look before flicking his tongue out against your clit. You hiss sharply.

“Tell me what you want, mi amor.”

“More, I want... _fuck_ , your tongue, your mouth, your fingers, _anything_ , just touch me, please!”

Kandomere tuts at you and gives you his 'interrogation' stare. “Not specific enough, I need more information.”

He holds your hips still as you try to buck them, keening with need. “Please, Kandomere, eat me, I want you to eat me-”

Blessedly, he has no hesitation once he's gotten you to tell him what you want, and he's working your cunt with his tongue like he doesn't need to breathe. His proud nose rubs against your clit while his tongue pushes into you, his thumbs spreading your labia to grant him access. He alternates between closing his eyes, forehead creased, and piercing you with his diamond stare, his pupils blown with desire. Two fingers replace his tongue as he moves his mouth up to your clit. He pumps in and out as he sucks and nips at your sensitive clit with lips and teeth.

“ _Ohhhh my godddddd-_ ” you cum with shuddering cry.

He pulls back, mouth glistening, and his licks his lips. “I will be your god if you keep sacrificing yourself on my tongue, chiquita.”

“Ay, papi...” you moan.

Kandomere's expression turns dangerous, and in an instant he's flipped you over onto your hands and knees. He keeps an iron grip on your hips as he pulls you back against him, lining himself up and sinking into you with a hard thrust. He sets a punishing pace as he bends over you, his mouth pressed against your ear as he slips into elven to tell you how he wants to fuck you until you can't walk, how he can't stop thinking about you and the way you feel when you cum around him, how often he's touched himself to thoughts of you.

“Oh, ffffuck, don't stop...” you match him thrust for thrust, the bed shaking beneath you.

He sinks his teeth into the back of your neck and you arch into him as you cum again. Kandomere keeps riding you through your orgasm, chasing his own, and you turn your head to watch him over your shoulder.

As you catch his eye, you wet your lips with your tongue and gasp “Ay papi, dame mas duro...”

Kandomere closes his eyes tight, brow furrowed, and pumps into you hard as he cums with a shout. Thick, hot spurts of cum shoot up inside you and squeeze out around his cock, coating your thighs. He slips out of you and runs his hands up through his hair, combing it back off his face. You take a moment to appreciate his jawline as you bask in the afterglow.

“So, dirty talk really does it for you, huh?” you smirk.

He exhales shakily, his eyes narrowed to glittering slits, and you feel immensely powerful at reducing him to such an uncontrolled state. “You are turning out to be very dangerous.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More smut, and a little bit of plot. But come on, no one's here for the plot, right? ;)

The bed you awake in is deeply luxurious and comfortable, and the fact that it smells like your lover is just extra incentive to enjoy it a moment longer. Stretching out like a cat to work out some of the delicious ache in your muscles from last night's activities reveals the other side of the bed is empty, but still warm. You rise and hunt around for something to wear, finding a plush navy blue robe which you pull on and belt around your waist.

“Kandomere?”

You open the door to the sleek, minimalist master bath and hear the shower running. As you come around the corner to the stone-tiled walk-in shower, you see he's already under the rain head and take a moment to appreciate his body.

Water runs in rivulets down his muscled torso, pooling in the dips of his pelvis, accentuating the power of his legs. His head is tipped back, hair a sheet of pale blue as he lets the water run over his face. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. He catches you staring at him, and leisurely runs one hand down his body to lazily cup his cock, massaging and working himself as he watches you watching him.

“See something you like?”

“Oh, hell yes.” You drop your borrowed bathrobe to the floor and approach him, wetting your lips.

Every part of him attracts you. The water running over his face, wetting his full lips, dripping off the sharp angles of his jaw. You want to run your tongue over his collarbones, suck the droplets from his skin and mark him. He looks at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his gaze slowly traveling up and down your body, one hand coming up to grasp your hip.

“You are so fucking beautiful, come here.” he growls, pulling you firmly against him and turning to press you against the wall, mouth on yours.

Kandomere lifts you effortlessly by your thighs and braces you against the wall, one knee coming to rest between your legs. As an elf, he's so much stronger than anyone else you've been with, which is both scary and exciting. You grind against him wantonly, smiling against his tempting mouth as you feel his cock come to full attention between you. He shifts you slightly and you can feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against your center. You run your tongue over his pointed teeth as he teases you, pushing just the barest inch into before pulling back, only to repeat.

“Ahhhh, please...”

“I like it when you beg me.” he whispers.

“Fuck, _please_!”

He sinks into you slowly, enjoying the desperate look on your face. The drag of his cock inside you is too slow and you buck your hips against him, trying to get more of that friction.

“That's it, sweetheart, you look so beautiful like this.”

The water is running over you both, making your kisses feel like drowning and flying at the same time. You beg him to take you faster, harder, _more_. He grants your wish, supporting you against the wall as his hips piston against your pelvis, slamming into you faster than is probably safe against the slick tile.

“I'm going to fuck you like this until you're screaming my name, mi hermosa.” he whispers, his voice strained with desire, one forearm braced over your head against the wall. “And then, I'm going to make you cum so hard you see stars.”

All you can do is whimper into his mouth and hold on. The friction against your clit is achingly delicious, and you cry his name into the steam of the shower as he pushes you closer to the edge. You are, indeed, screaming his name when you cum, an earth-shaking, thigh-quivering orgasm that leaves you spasming in his arms. The sound of his name pulled from you in ecstasy spurs him on to his own release, his groans sounding almost painful as he empties into you, pressing you into the wall.

After your post-shower-sex-shower, you're watching him getting dressed for the day, enjoying the quiet strength and grace in even the most simple of his movements. Was it an elf thing, the way he moves, or just a him thing? Or maybe you were in it deeper than you realized.

“I have to go in today, but I'd like it if you stayed, only if you want to.” he says as he straightens his cuffs, not meeting your eye.

“What's this really about?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening.

“That envelope was hand-delivered to the archive, by someone inside the MTF. I'm not convinced it's safe yet, and I would feel better if you were here. Your home is not very...secure.”

“You can't think that envelope was specifically meant for me, anyone could have picked it up.” you reason.

“I'm not ready to make that distinction yet.” he replies, eyes flashing in the morning light. He crosses to where you sit on the bed, leaning down to cage you between his arms against the bed. “Please? I will worry less if I know you're here. Make yourself at home, whatever you like.”

“Okay, but you have to keep me updated. I'm gonna go crazy if I stay in all day without knowing what's going on.” you bargain, tugging on his tie. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips before standing up and straightening his tie.

“I'll call you as soon as I know anything.”

You see him to the door, locking the it behind him per his request, even if you did think it was a bit excessive to have to lock the door on his private floor in an exclusive building. Making yourself comfortable on the couch with a book of Övüsi poetry to pass the time.

The buzz of your cellphone wakes you from where you'd fallen asleep on the couch, which is more comfortable than your own bed, you realize.

“Hello?”

“Did I wake you?” he sounds amused.

“Yeah, cat nap, sorry.” you say, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “Anything to report?”

“Surveillance cameras caught the person who dropped the envelope off, not a clear picture, but it's a lead.”

“Elf?” you ask.

“Can't tell, they were wearing a hoodie. The security badge they used to scan in at the front desk was reported stolen, though.”

“Not MTF, then?”

“Mmm, I'm not convinced. They moved with purpose, like they knew exactly where to go.”

“The archives are fine now, though, right? Everything got cleaned up.” There is no way you're going to tolerate being on enforced leave much longer, you're getting cabin fever as it is.

“Yes,” Kandomere says, grudgingly, “the archives have been cleared of contamination.”

“Then I can go back tomorrow. Good.”

You can hear him pinching his brow. He huffs. “Yes, of course. But security has been tightened. I requested they have agents in the archives on a 24-hour detail.”

“I see, so no more naked book cart racing, Grace will be disappointed.”

“Have you eaten yet? I'm off soon and I'd like to take you out.” he deflects your attempt at humor.

“I don't have any clothes-”

“Wear what you wore last night, you looked lovely.”

“I, okay, I feel uncomfortable being out in Elftown like this, though.” you tell him. “I stand out enough as human.”

“We'll go somewhere friendly, don't worry. I'll take care of it. See you soon.”

You stare at your phone in irritation. The confidence is sexy, sure, but the way he just brushes off your concerns is going to have to stop. You get dressed in last night's clothes and try to do something with your hair while you wait for your date to get home.

 

* * *

 

 

The restaurant is surprisingly human-friendly, which you figure is because it's on the edge of the elven district. The servers are humans and orcs and the clientele is mixed.

“Is this another of the human-friendly places you bring your partner?” you ask over your menu, which is written in Elven, English, and Spanish.

“No, actually, I've never brought Ulysses here. He doesn't care for spicy food, so this place would be wasted on him.”

“His loss, then. Have you been partners long?”

“Nine years, he's a good man. A bit impulsive, he can get carried away. I trust him with my life, though.”

“He was standing outside the exam room when we...” you trail off.

“Yes.” Kandomere's face is unreadable.

“Did he...hear, anything?”

Kandomere laughs, his sharp teeth flashing. “You don't need to be embarrassed, he's not the kind to judge. And it was an...extenuated circumstance.”

Covering your face with your hands, you groan. “I am never going to be able to look him in the face.”

Dinner is quietly pleasant, and the conversation is easy. You tell Kandomere about your university work, the travel you've done to study languages, how much you enjoy your job at the MTF. He tells you about interesting cases, how he always wanted to work for the MTF and make the world safer, how he misses his large family but manages to keep in touch so his mother won't worry. He's holding your hand as you walk back to the car when he asks about your family.

“I don't have much of one.” you reply.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up something painful.” he gives your hand a squeeze.

“It's fine, I don't mind being on my own. And it's not like I don't have friends, I'm not lonely.” you reassure him.

“Oh, I'll make sure you're not lonely.” he teases.

You tug on his hand to stop him. “Wait, where are we going?”

“Home.” he says, as if it were plainly obvious.

“Your home?” you clarify.

“Yes, of course.”

“Kandomere, I can't just keep staying at your place.”

“Why not?” he acts as if your statement is absurd.

“Because I don't live there!” you say, exasperated.

He looks confused, and possibly for the first time, at a loss for words.

“What are we?” you ask. “What are we doing?”

He steps close to you. “We're two people who care about each other, spending time together, enjoying each other's company.”

“We could stay at mine.” you offer.

Kandomere looks physically pained at the thought, and though you should be insulted, you just laugh.

“C'mon, I know it's a crap studio in a shitty neighborhood, but it's mine and you can't keep me locked up in your ivory tower indefinitely. I need to go home, if only for clothes and my laptop. I'm falling behind on work.”

“I will buy you new clothes, and a new computer.” Kandomere states.

“And as tempting as it is to make you my sugar daddy, I'm gonna have to decline. There's nothing wrong with my stuff or my place, and I am going home. But I would like it if you stayed over.” you reason.

“I have an early meeting, I don't think I can stay over tonight.”

“Well, you can take me back to my place tonight and stay over tomorrow. I'm working day shift, you can come by after you get off work, we can have dinner in. Surely you can go one night without my company?”

He furrows his brow at your insistence, pensive. It shouldn't be as attractive on him as it is. After a long moment, he sighs in resignation.

“I should really book you for unlicensed magic use, because you've clearly put my under an enchantment.” he says, stepping close to you and pinning you with his intense eyes. “That is the only possible explanation that I would seriously consider this.”

“You caught me, Special Agent, I've bewitched you with my evil vagina devil magic.” you deadpan. “You wanna cuff me?”

And yes, he looks like he would very much like that, but he settles for growling at you and pulling you up in a rough kiss instead.

“Fine. I'll come to your place tomorrow. I have a condition, though.”

You raise your eyebrow in question.

“You take the car instead of the train. It's safer.”

“So dramatic! The train is fine!” you exclaim.

“I will not be persuaded on this, chiquita.” he warns.

“Okay, I will allow myself to be chauffeured home to give you peace of mind.” you say. His returning smile is a bit tight, but you'll take it.

He holds your hand as he drives you home and walks you to your door, trying to be inconspicuous as he side-eyes your building's locks. He gives you a lingering good night kiss that makes you weak in the knees, quietly promising to see you tomorrow. You lock the door behind him, and lean your forehead against it, hand against your beating heart. Oh yeah, you're definitely in it deep.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the MTF makes a break in the case, danger pushes you farther into Kandomere's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is my birthday, and as a birthday present for you all, I have the long-awaited next chapter. Lots of smut, so enjoy!
> 
> Briarcrow Art on Tumblr did an amazing sketch of Kandomere pulling his hair up from this chapter, check it out:  
> https://briarcrowart.tumblr.com/post/171105513463/i-promised-howtobangyourmonster-kandomere

Even though it was your idea, Kandomere spending the night at your place is giving you no end of anxiety. How long has it been since someone has stayed over? You can’t even remember…

The knock at your door signals your guest’s arrival, and you hastily glance around the apartment one last time. You’ve cleaned it like you need your deposit back and it looks as good as it ever will. Opening the door, you smile at Kandomere, who looks adorably out-of-place in his three piece suit and Italian shoes standing in your run-down building.

“Hey.” you lean in for a quick kiss and wave him in.

You felt too intimidated to try cooking for him, so instead you got takeout from your favorite Thai place and made a candlelit dinner around the coffee table, pillows piled on the floor. Of course, he even made eating sitting on your apartment floor look effortlessly elegant, lounging against the pillows, forearm propped on his knee.

“How was your day?”

“Productive, we have a lead on the smuggling ring.”

“Really?” your curiosity is piqued.

“One of the day shift archivists has apparently been running a black market trade in magic texts, he’s being blackmailed by someone in the ring.”

“One of the archivists?! Who?”

“A man called Williams, do you know him?” Kandomere asks.

“Oh my god, really? Yeah, I’ve worked with him before. I always thought he was one of the quiet nerdy types. Wow. I can’t believe he was selling texts…” you feel a bit flummoxed at the thought of a fellow archivist selling off the kind of dangerous books that pass across your desks every day. “Do you think the envelope was meant for him?”

“Actually,” Kandomere looks a little apologetic, “he’s the one who planted it. The ring sent it as a warning to back off.”

You’re dumbfounded. “Wow. I…huh. You think you know people.”

“He’s giving us some good information, in exchange for a plea deal.”

You’re about to ask if Kandomere thinks anyone else in the MTF is compromised when several police cars fly by your building, sirens blaring. Used to it, you barely notice, but Kandomere’s forehead creases and his mouth turns down in a deep frown as he glances at your window.

“You’re going to send me into an early grave, living in this place.” he says, worrying his fingers through his hair, though it falls perfectly anyway.

“I’ve lived here for years, it’s fine. I know my neighbors, we watch out for each other.” you scoot closer to Kandomere and press a kiss to his cheek. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and I care about you more than I’m ready to admit, but you have to give me my autonomy. You already hold most of the power in this relationship.”

“It’s not a power game-”

“It is, though.” you say, gently. “I know you don’t want it to be, and in a perfect world we could just be together without having to navigate difficult distinctions of race and class, but we live in kind of a shitty world, to be honest. I can’t just disappear into this relationship with you and let you do everything for me.”

“I like doing things for you. I like taking care of you.” Kandomere says, softly, fingers caressing your cheek, your chin. You lean into the touch.

“And it feels nice, to be cared about like that.” you reply. “But I don’t want to start resenting you, and I  _will_ if I feel like I’m dependent on you for everything. I’m a capable person, I can take care of myself.”

You’re met with one of his intensely brooding stares, you can practically see the wheels in his mind turning, trying to figure out an argument that will win you over, a way he can sway you to his side. You keep your face strong, refusing to back down.

“You are a very remarkable woman,” he says, finally, “and I admire you more than you know. I would never want you to diminish yourself for me.”

Sliding into his lap, you tuck your head up under his chin happily. You turn and press kisses along his pulse, gently biting and sucking at the skin there, making him growl and grip you tight.

“You haven’t seen the bedroom yet…”

Kandomere smirks. “You did neglect to give me the tour.”

You give a yelp of surprise as he stands, carrying you up with him, and you wrap your legs around him reflexively. He heads straight for your bedroom without asking which one it is.  _Must be his heightened elf senses…_

Not even bothering to turn the lights on, Kandomere drops you on the bed and climbs over you until his hips are pinning you down between your thighs, grinding on you and rubbing his growing erection up against you through your clothes. The friction is wonderful, and for a long while you both just enjoy grinding and making out until the crotch of your pajamas and the front of his boxers are both wet. When not drenched in desire, you might have been embarrassed how your cheap bedframe squeaks rhythmically beneath you, but in the thick of wanting him the sound just spurs you on.

“ _Kandomere…_ ” you moan in his ear before licking along the edge of it to the tip. Kandomere shudders almost violently, a lewd groan erupting from him as you take the tip in your mouth and just  _suck_.

Being able to make this man who is always so poised and in control moan and squirm and writhe under your hands is unbelievably erotic and satisfying. That he is such a responsive and vocal lover is a delicious surprise in your relationship and one that you never tire of. His hands grip you tight enough to leave bruises as he pushes against you harder.

“Amor, if you keep doing that, I’m going to be finished before we even start…”

There’s a heated moment as you lock eyes, and then you’re both racing to take off your clothes as fast as possible. The feeling of his naked skin against yours is just as thrilling this time as the first(though your memory of that particular moment is admittedly hazy), and you wonder if you’ll ever get used to this. You certainly hope not.

He pulls his hair up out of his face into a loose high bun as he looks at you like a predator, spreading your thighs and settling between them, his breath ghosting across the sensitive skin there.

“You are so delicious, sweetheart.” he murmurs before slanting his mouth across you and pressing in with his wickedly talented tongue.

Your hands fist in his hair and tug at it as you writhe. “ _Fffuuck_ , babe…”

Kandomere groans against your cunt, pulling on your clit with his teeth in that way he knows drives you wild. The danger of his sharp teeth against your slick flesh thrills you and sends goosebumps over your skin. He teases you with his fingers until you’re practically sobbing and begging.  
“Is this what you wanted,” he asks as he slides home inside you, “all you had to do was ask.”

He pushes in deep, the slide of his dick inside you feels like flying. You tighten your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against his neck as you cry out. Elven endearments fall from his lips as he makes love to you. The roll of his hips is sinuous and sensual, gently and insistently pressing just the right spot and coaxing you into a slow climax. His mouth finds yours for a deep kiss that trails down to your jaw and along your throat, even as he continues to steadily pump into you.

“Kan-”

“ _Shh_ ,” his mouth finds yours again, “let me worship you, angel.”

He knows how to play your body, how to coax out the little sounds and moans that he loves, how to pluck the strings of your soul until your entire body is taught and wound tight, ready for release. When he is sure of your pleasure, he stops teasing and coaxing, setting his thrusts to a finishing pace. Ecstasy breaks over you in waves of fire, and he chases you over the edge, grunting your name into your neck as he threads his fingers through yours and grows still above you, the aftershocks of pleasure quaking through you both.

Sleep finds you as the dawning light outside begins to creep through the blinds.

 

* * *

 

In the weeks that follow, you and Kandomere settle in to a pattern. You usually stay at his place one evening during the week and he stays at yours most Friday nights. Weekends are almost always spent at his. You can tell he’s coaxing you to spend more time at his penthouse, even when he’s not there. He casually drops that you should keep a toothbrush and toiletries at his, there’s room for your clothes, it’ll be more convenient than going home to change or packing a bag, and so on. It’s adorably frustrating, but you’re maintaining your own separate schedules and lives when you’re not together.

You’re making progress on the smuggling ring, too. Williams gave up everything he knew in exchange for protection. The smuggling ring was somehow connected with a human-supremacy group who were pretty vocally anti-magic, so that was a surprise.

“What the hell are they doing working with an elven smuggling operation?” Montehugh had asked. “Those fuckers  _hate_  elves.”

“No fucking clue.” you’d replied, just as perplexed. Kandomere had only frowned, looking increasingly disquieted.

You have a whole folder of hastily-scrawled notes in  Övüsi on your coffee table, all intercepted by MTF agents and all in some kind of code. You’re getting close to breaking it, with Kandomere’s help. He’s sure they detail meeting times and drops. If you could crack it, you might be able to bring down the whole ring.

A loud thump against your front door startles you, a second loud thump follows and you realize there is someone trying to kick down your door.

“I have a gun!” you bluff. “I’m calling the cops!”

You hear a muffled argument taking place on the other side of the door. So, at least two people, then. Stumbling into the bathroom, you lock the door and hide in the shower. You fumble for your phone, pressing call and holding it to your ear.

“Kandomere?” there is panic in your voice. He picks up on it immediately.

“What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“At home, someone’s trying to break in, they’re kicking the door.” your voice breaks. “I’m hiding in the bathroom.”

“Lock the door, stay there. I’m on my way.”

It seems like an eternity before he texts you that he’s outside your apartment and you hear a knock at the door. You unlock the bathroom and cross your small apartment to your door, which is hanging a little loose on its hinges. You let Kandomere in, he has his sidearm drawn and is sniffing the air, eyes darting around the apartment. Seemingly satisfied, he holsters his weapon, sweeping you to him with one arm and kissing your forehead.

“I want you to pack a bag, you’re coming home with me.” his tone brooks no argument.

Normally you would protest that kind of assumption on his part, but staying in a highly-secure high rise in Elftown sounded pretty damn good right about then. You throw some clothes and toiletries into your overnight bag and grab your research and laptop off the coffee table. Kandomere is on his cell, arranging for a detail to watch your place.

The ride to Kandomere’s is quiet and tense. You’re sweating and shaking, adrenaline still pumping. By the time he gets you settled and sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea, you’ve half-convinced yourself you’re not really shaking anymore.

“Hey.” Kandomere’s voice is soft and concerned as he sits down next to you. “Talk to me.”

He’s picked up on your tendency to clam up under stress, and actively tries to draw you out now. It used to be irritating, but right now you’re just grateful for his kindness and attention.

“I feel fragile and unmoored.” you sigh, setting the cup down.

“What can I do?”

“Hold me? Reassure me?”

Kandomere folds you into his embrace, tucking your head under his chin, his arms warm and strong around you, stroking your hair as he whispers. “I’m here. You’re safe, I promise.”

Breathing deeply, you stave off your panic attack.  _Five things I can see; Elftown outside the window, peonies in a vase on the table, the mirror over the mantle, green throw blanket, Kandomere_.

“Everything is going to be alright…”

 _Four things I can touch; the couch cushions, the inside of my socks, my bracelet, my sweater, Kandomere’s chest_.

“It’s just you and me here…”

 _Three things I can hear; the clock, my breathing, Kandomere’s voice_.

“I’ve got you…”

Two things I can smell;  _rose tea, Kandomere’s skin_.

“They’ll have to go through me first…”

_One thing I can taste…_

You pull Kandomere’s face down to yours and press your lips to his. It’s not a passionate kiss, just simple and chaste, really. Comfort. That’s what you find with him. Belonging. Safety. Home.

Pulling back, you rest your forehead against his chest, breathing in the scent of him, letting yourself feel him, solid and warm and alive.

“Thank you…”

His fingers gently run through your hair.

“I don’t begin relationships lightly. My line of work, it…complicates things. There are never any guarantees. I know that you and I together is more complicated than most, but I don’t care. My life is better with you in it, and I’ll do whatever I have to, to keep you. I am utterly yours.” he tilts your chin up to meet your eyes, his silken straight hair framing that jawline you love so, his pale eyes shining. “You know you can stay here as long as you want. After we catch these cabrones I’ll help you find a new place, anything you need. Just please,  _please_ , mi amor, don’t go back there.”

The lump in your throat makes it painful to swallow, but you nod.

“I’ll stay.”

 

* * *

 

 

Living with your boyfriend doesn’t really change much, except for increasing the amount of sex you’re having. The man’s stamina is impressive, laudable even. He’s been hinting lately he has a surprise coming up for your birthday, and you’re slightly worried because you can’t fathom how you’ll fit any more into your sex life. You wake up in the large, luxurious bed, and then frown because it’s still far too dark out for you to be alone in it.

“Kandomere?” you call out. He comes into view exiting the walk-in closet, tying his necktie. Crossing to the bed, he sinks down onto it beside you and gives you a quick kiss.

“I have to go in early, querida, but I’ll send the car for you. There’s a gift for you on the table. Happy Birthday.”

“Mmmm,” you kiss him back lazily, still mostly asleep. By the time he departs for work, you are already asleep again.

Once your alarm wakes you up to begin your own workday, you barely remember Kandomere saying goodbye. You shower and have a breakfast before noticing the white garment box on the coffee table. There’s a note on the box, and you recognize Kandomere’s elegantly masculine script.

“ _Mi amor, I want you to wear only what is in this box, and come to my office at 5pm exactly.”_

Curiosity piques you as you sift through the box’s contents; a silk blouse and soft wool pencil skirt, a pair of red heels, some wide Tahitian pearl cuff bracelets, a lacy demi-cup bra but no corresponding panty, an avant-garde necklace made of a short length of silken rope capped at the ends with rose gold, and a pair of filigree rose gold earrings with a fine silk loop woven through each one. Looks like you’d be getting some hot clandestine office sex for your birthday. The thought puts a spring in your step as you dress.

 

* * *

 

 

The first part of your shift passes agonizingly slow as you wait for 5pm. You are getting quite a few compliments on your ensemble, though. Even the elven agents are treating you with more respect, though if that has more to do with your expensive clothes or your powerful lover is anyone’s guess.

“Look at you, all fancy!” Grace says, checking out your outfit. “Rich boyfriend suits you.”

“It’s weird, Grace, you can say it’s weird. I feel like I’m playing dress-up.”

“Well, dress up looks good on you. You got plans with Hot Elf Papi tonight?”

“Please stop calling him that.” you plead. “And I think he’s taking me out after work.”

“You are  _sooo_  lucky, what I wouldn’t give for some of  _that_.” Grace waggles her eyebrows at you.

“You really need to get laid, Grace, stop fetishizing my sex life.” you laugh.

“Workin’ on it, girl. Workin’ on it.” she winks at you as she clocks out.

You glance at your clock; 4:30pm. You can do this, you can wait. Evening shift comes on, and you make small talk while mindlessly scanning one of the new tomes into the system. Your phone alarm goes off, finally.

“I’m going on break.” you announce, trying not to speed-walk to the elevator.

Taking the elevator up, you try to remember how to act like someone  _not_  about to get fucked in a special agent’s office, and smile as nonchalantly as you can with the other people getting on and off the elevator.  _Hi, I’m not wearing underwear!_

Trying to stroll as confidently as you can past the high-ranking agents that occupy this floor, you nod at Kandomere’s secretary who rolls his eyes at you. Opening the office door, you clear your throat.

“You asked to see me, sir?”

“Come in.” Kandomere rises from his chair and comes around you to lock the door behind you and closes the blinds.

You feel almost naked as he circles you, his gaze slowly traveling up and down your body in frank appreciation. He stops in front of you and leans against his desk, tipping his head back. His steel blue hair falls back off his neck and his gleaming silver eyes pierce yours in the evening light.

“I’m pleased you’re wearing my gifts, chiquita.” he reaches up and tugs your earlobe softly. “Would you like to see how they work?”

“How they work?” you ask.  _Please don’t let this be some kind of safety surveillance kink and they’re trackers or some shit…_

Kandomere smirks as he takes your hands in his, leading you over to one of the heavy steel-and-mahogany cabinets in the office. Unclasping the pearl cuff on your left wrist, he raises your hand, slips the linking chain through a cabinet handle above your head, and clasps the cuff closed around your wrist. It’s snug, but not painful. He repeats with the other cuff. Your blood begins to pound in your ears as he slowly moves behind you, putting his strong arms around you to unbutton your shirt. The position has you leaning forward slightly, and your breasts are already threatening to spill out of the demi bra. Kandomere tugs the bra down just enough to expose your nipples to the air, pinching them between his thumbs and forefingers until you moan out loud.

“That’s it, I want to hear you.”

Gently, so very gently, he removes the earrings from your ears. You can’t see what he’s doing with them with his hands in the way, but you feel a pinch on your nipple, and realize the earrings are cleverly-disguised nipple clamps. Kandomere does the same with your other nipple, before giving them a firm tug. You gasp, and his name escapes your mouth. He moves around you to stand where you can see him, surveying his work with a heated gleam in his silver eyes. You glance down to see the lovely rose gold filigree dangling delicately from your peaked nipples. The effect is quite fetching. Reaching up to his tie, he removes his tie bar and steps close to you. One hand slides up your inner thigh, pushing the skirt up around your waist, and his fingers massage your folds tenderly.

“Kandomere… _ah_ …”

“Yes? What do you need?”

“More, please…”

He kneels down before you and gives your weeping slit a thorough kiss, before you feel him pull back. There’s a sudden pinch on your clit that doesn’t let up. You arch your hip forward and his fingers brush against your clit, which is becoming increasingly sensitive. He’s used his tie bar as a clamp on your clit. Standing, his hand runs over your ass appreciatively before he brushes your hair back off your face and tips your chin up for a brief brush of his lips on yours.

“You look like sin.”

Loosening the knot on his tie, he pulls it from around his neck and wraps it once around his hand, pulling it taught, and you notice for the first time that while the surface of the tie is silk, the underside appears to be leather. You’re not fully prepared for the sharp sting of the leather against your ass.

“Fuck!” you exclaim, an involuntary jerk of your hips away from the sting.

“Do you want everyone to hear you, mi hermosa?” he asks as another slap of the leather lands. “Do you want to be caught in this compromising position?”

Kandomere leans in to nip your ear with his sharp teeth and you gasp.

“Does it excite you?”

His hand sneaks between your legs to find you wet, lips swollen. Another stinging slap against your ass nearly buckles your legs, and he steps behind you to wrap his arm around your waist, supporting you. You hear rustling as Kandomere works the buttons of his fly open and pulls himself free, hot and hard against your reddened ass. He presses his lips against the nape of your neck, teasing the tender skin with his teeth and tongue as his foot nudges your feet apart, spreading your legs.

“I need you to be silent for me now. Can you do that?” he whispers against your neck as he pushes into you. He grabs your hair and gives it a firm tug. “I need an answer.”

“Y..yes.”

“Yes, what?” Kandomere gives your hair another tug, earning a moan from you.

“Yes, sir.” you breathe. You’ve never explored this kind of play with him before, and you find you like it a lot more than you anticipated.

“Good. Your submission pleases me, hermosa.”

He pushes into you from behind, one hand pressing on the small of your back to keep you bowed and your ass out. He wastes no time, his pace fast and hard. Soon you’re biting back your moans as he fucks you senseless.

“I told you to be quiet, do I need to silence you?” he demands. You try to swallow your moans but he hilts himself in you in just the right way and you wail. He grabs the rope of your necklace and roughly shoves it between your teeth. “Since you can’t follow the rules on your own…”

You bite down on the soft rope, using it to muffle your cries as you press yourself back against him with each thrust. The only sound in the office is the slap of skin against skin, Kandomere grunting harshly in your ear as he fucks you hard, and your own quiet gasps.

“ _Fuck_ , I’m close, and I want you to cum with me.” he says, reaching around to press his finger into your clamped and oversensitive clit, rubbing it in tight circles. Tears slip down your cheeks as your legs threaten to buckle. It’s so good and too much all at once. “ _Cum_  for me, sweetheart, fucking _cum for me_ …”

Your orgasm comes over you like a shot, and you’re cunt is clutching at his cock as though you’re being swept away and he’s your salvation. He lifts you up with one arm, pulling your head back by the hair with the other, and pounds into you until he cums with a long groaning exhalation, pressing his nose against the side of you head, into your hair.

“I love the way you smell after I fuck you. You smell like me, and sweat, and sex.” he murmurs, pressing a kiss against your skin. Reaching up, he unclasps your bracelet cuffs and rubs the feeling back into your arms. They’re all pins and needles as the blood rushes back into them. “And now, every elf in this building will know you’ve been fucked by me.”

The blood rushes back into your face, too, at that. You realize every elf on this floor probably knew what was happening inside Kandomere’s office immediately. You were going to have to walk past those desks, ride the elevator down, and spend the rest of your shift smelling exactly like you’ve just been fucked in half by Special Agent Kandomere. The thought is surprisingly arousing to you, maybe you’re more of an exhibitionist than you give yourself credit for.

He straightens your skirt and smooths your hair back into place. But the time he’s done with you, you  _look_  as polished as when you walked in to his office.

But only just.


End file.
